The Sufferer's Final Sermon
by Xaurnel
Summary: They were here to watch him die, and for that he was happy. Despite the circumstances, for a moment, his work had been done. He allowed his eyes to slowly slip closed, one final word passing his bloodied lips. "Beautiful…" Oneshot. Complete.


A gathering took place at the bottom of a tall cliff, for once equal, despite blood. They all came to see the spectacle before them now, to see their leader, or traitor, put to death. Behind them the sky glowed, brilliant shades of red, yellow, and orange, the blood colors of the lowbloods that the prophet had so desperately tried to protect, to make equal. All of this… Just because a few trolls fought for their right to exist.

Chained to the wall of a cliff was a troll. This troll, above all others, had loved. He had lost. This man had experienced joy and pain like no other, and all for the sake of the greater good. Now, here he resides; weak, powerless, unable to continue his lifelong struggle anymore. The sizzling hiss of heated metal melting flesh was heard, but the troll being burned was near silent. His arms, shackled above his head, were bound by two metal cuffs in the shape of a six and a nine, wrists bound in place and burning. The iron restraints were red hot, and the grimace on his bloodied face gave the slightest hint of the pain he was in. But, surprisingly, he didn't scream. He still didn't cry.

The blood… Cherry red blood ran in rivers down his body from lacerations given in punishment for his sins. To attempt to speak out against the highbloods, the CONDESCE was unforgivable. And a _mutant_ as a messiah, nonetheless? Unthinkable.

A crowd had gathered below him, those of every hue spare the royal fuchsia. She sat on a pedestal above, leering down at him. The condesce was going to watch, and enjoy every moment of this. It wasn't every day you got to see someone be put to death. Well, for her it was, but this was a _special_ occasion. This troll, in particular, wasn't like most others. He was the signless, the sufferer, the prophet that had wandered Alternia for so many sweeps before finally being captured. The fuscia-blooded empress licked her lips in anticipation.

The Signless lifted his head as much as he could, and gazed out into the crowd with tired, but not defeated eyes. If his was to be allowed one last sermon before his execution… So be it. Red eyes glanced down at the ground to see the kneeling Dolorosa, silent jade-tinted tears streaming down her angular cheekbones, running down her face and dripping from her jaw. She too had been beaten and mangled, her clothes torn and body bloody, but… She was still beautiful. His mother would always be beautiful in his eyes.

His dry tongue flicked out in an attempt to wet cracked, blood caked lips. Even though it was to no avail, and speaking would most certainly be uncomfortable, it must be done. He needed to tell the world one last message. A deep breath rattled in his chest before he began, raspy voice still clear enough to ring out through the crowd, "There is no use in hiding it now, my followers…" He began, "You all can see me for what I am! The Signless, the sufferer, the m-mutant… My blood burns brightly for all to see, and is a flame of revolution that you cannot ever hope to quell." Blood dripped down his chin from where his healing lip split once again, as red as the base of a flame. "My mistake was believing that I could change a world infected by hate and corruption…"

"I have been peaceful." His voice cracked, looking down at the crowd, many of which had once been his faithful followers, "I have been kind." This time, his gaze moved upward, eye-to-eye with his executioner, perched with his arrow ready at the bow.

His tongue swept over chapped lips again, "I only dare to speak what others have been dreaming for so long. I had dreams too. Dreams of what might have b-" The troll was cut off with an uncontrollable cough, spitting blood onto the ground below him. "B-Been… Where blood was simply blood, and _ALL_ of us were equal. If wishing for that is heresy, then "yes"", Red eyes narrowed with anger fixed their gaze at the smirking ruler, the one seadweller that could have the power to destroy so much beauty and love he fought for in the world, "I deserve to die."

Fuck… His mind was swirling and his thoughts were becoming garbled. This sermon had been planned out for days; he had a lot of thinking he could do when he was either shackled or in a torture session. The loss of blood was getting to his head, and he was growing faint. But he _had_ to finish it. For his mother, for him, for… For her. "I have seen acts of the most sublime kindness, and the most vile cruelty." The suffering troll's voice came again, noticeably weaker, "They say powerful beings find anger when they have no room for love."

The Signless was forced to cut himself off again, the strain of his full body weight tugging down on his arms compressed his ribcage, causing his breaths to come in short, desperate pants. This needed to be said… This had to be done. Pointed ears twitched as the Dolorosa began to quietly sob below, the experience of seeing her one and only son slaughtered before her being used as the ultimate torture, fitting for a troll that had commit such treason.

"What made you so?" He asked, eyes running from the Grand Highblood, to the Orphaner Dualscar, and then finally settling on the Condesce, where they all sat high above the rest, "Are you scared of change? Scared of those who are different…? I realize, I am different from you. So much different from you, for I have known feeling that none of you can _ever_ hope to know." The mutant spat at the ground, a fang and glob of saliva expelled from his mouth and to the floor below him. The low rumble of the purple-blooded royal was heard above him. Bloodshot eyes flickered back over to narrow and glare at the Highblood. Oh, how he would _love_ to lecture him about his crimes, make him break from words alone. But… But there wasn't enough time. The mutated troll felt himself slipping.

"I have known the comrodery of a friend, who supported me against all the odds… I have known the compassion of a guardian, who took me in when no others would, and raised me to dream and hope! I… I have known a love and passion that transcended definition." He said, voice slowly growing softer. His head drooped and his eyes closed. Fuck… The memory of his friends, and what they must be experiencing right now…. It was almost over, almost over… Just a little more… The Signless clung to it, the last few strands of life within his grasp. If he couldn't save them physically, he could at least honor them with one… Last… Speech…

Snapping his head upward, he barked out with a yell, "You have taken the freedom of an innocent troll and turned his blessings into a CURSE!" The Psiioniic… He failed to protect him, the friend that remained with him. Always, until the end.

"The pity you've taken on my disciple will wound her. She has known true love and you forced her into a life of solitude!" His disciple… His precious, beloved follower. Gog, would he miss her the most. His heart ached as he thought of the panic, anger, and fear she must feel now, "Forced a mother to watch her son DIE!" He shouted, voice raising louder than it had in the entire sermon. Mother…. Mother, he was so sorry… He had failed. Failed to protect you, and bring love to this gogforsaken planet like he had promised he would. She had done so much for him, and he couldn't… He couldn't even do this one task in return.

"I see you for what you are… I always FUCKING HAVE! I THOUGHT I COULD FUCKING CHANGE YOU! FUCK ME, FOR BEING A FUCKING FOOL!" He roared, voice cracking painfully. He lashed against his bindings, screaming in pain as the hot metal burned deeper into his skin and charred areas that hadn't yet been reached, his body jerking and writhing in agony. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He swore through his fruitless attempts to freedom, hissing and spitting in attempts to reach the highbloods with some type of bodily fluid. Maybe… He could taint them with his blood. Just the slightest splash of cherry red would surely send them into a tizzy. It was useless though, there was nothing he could do. His head hung down and the shackles clanked together, "… fuck."

The Condesce laughed and leaned down from her perch, "Temper, temper, mutantblood!" She chided in a teasing tone of voice, "You have lead us to believe you were incapable of feeling anger! So why do so now?"

He was silent for a moment before his voice came, soft yet resolved, "I am angry… Because I forgive you… And I'm sorry you're unable to see the world as it could be. I may be the biggest fucking fool in all of Alternia," He gasped and arched his back, the searing pain slowly traveling down his spine as the toll from hanging only by his wrists, "but when I close my eyes, I see a world where we all work together. And it is so… Fucking…"

The Signless' voice dropped to a near whisper, yet the wind still carried it above the crowd of diverse trolls. For once, they had gathered together, as near equals, if only for a short period of time. They were here to watch him die, and for that he was happy. Despite the circumstances, for a moment, his work had been done. He allowed his eyes to slowly slip closed, one final word passing his bloodied lips.

"Beautiful…"

The sharp whisp of the e%ecutioner's arrow whizzed past and above the trollian crowd, sailing true straight into his heart. The heart of the prophet. The heart of a troll. Of a beloved son. Of a faithful friend. Of a loyal lover. Of a man of peace.

A gurgle bubbled in the sufferer's throat and he jerked as the sharp weapon pierced his skin. The speared organ struggled to pump the mutant blood through his system until it finally stopped, and his body slumped. Bloodloss, dehydration, and plain exhaustion had led to his demise. The arrow was the final breaking point.

The Dolorosa below let out a wail of anguish, pleading for her son to be let down so she could hold him. A guard kicked her in the side and sent her toppling back from her knees to her sides, where she curled up, still silently begging with jade-tinted tears slipping down her cheeks.

"_My boy… My precious, wonderful baby boy. I'm so proud of you…" _

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OKAY so I had no idea how to fucking end that, so I wung it. I'm not too far into Homestuck, somewhere around 5800. This was based off of a youtube video I found, [Homestuck] The Sufferer's Final Sermon by rumstudio. If you type in the url, here is the address: /watch?v=0qlfeXnIxn4 _

_Anyway, this might not be exactly canon. Like I said, I'm not that far in. This was also a first draft I wrote in my study hall because I had nothing else to do. And I'm horrible at editing. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed! If you have any comments or suggestions, feel free to post them in the reviews! _

_I live off of reviews. They make me happy. _


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